


Recovery

by PQFan



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PQFan/pseuds/PQFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3, Episode 6: Still Positive -<br/>Another shot at a missing scene. In this case, Carrie and Quinn have brought Javadi to the safe house and observed Saul take a shot at him, breaking his nose. What follows is my fantasy of what might happen next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 4-14-14: I've received a few Guest questions/comments asking if i would be writing more to this story. I had not planned to but have been thinking about how it might continue on, how it might play out. Just starting to jot down some ideas, so stay tuned, and thanks for your interest and comments!

Carrie and Quinn walk out into the kitchen, still stunned from the events of the day and Saul’s latest tactic of interrogation - breaking Javadi’s nose. This was getting messier by the minute. Saul walks in feeling smug.

“Why don’t you two get out of here.  I think you’ve seen enough today.”

“I’d like to help with the interrogation,” Carrie argues.

“I’m not asking, Carrie. Go home. Clean yourself up and get some rest.”

“But Saul, I…”

“Come on,” Quinn interrupts. “We’ll come back later tonight.”

Carrie looks at Quinn with annoyance, then turns back to Saul.

“Fine,” she huffs.

Carrie grabs her bag and heads for the door. Quinn follows, but turns to Saul on his way out and nods silently as if to say, ‘Don’t worry, I got this.’ Saul watches them leave, grateful for Quinn. The young man had taken to looking after Carrie, just as Saul had hoped. With Carrie out of his way, Saul returns to the interrogation room to face Javadi.

Outside, Carrie and Quinn walk towards the car, Carrie annoyed to be cock-blocked from the Javadi interrogation.

“Fucking Saul…” she mutters. “He’s intentionally leaving me out. He knows I should be in there…”

Quinn watches and lets her rant for a minute before speaking.

“Give me the keys…I’m driving,” he tells her.

She sighs angrily and tosses them to him. Five minutes into their drive Carrie realizes they’ve exited the highway for Tysons Corner. She turns to Quinn.

“Where are you going?” she asks with irritation.

“We need a drink.”

Carrie huffs. Quinn’s suggestion was the biggest understatement of the year. He pulls the car into parking lot of the Hilton just off the highway. He had frequented the hotel bar here on several occasions and hoped the serene atmosphere would help them unwind from the day’s horrific events.

“Swanky,” Carrie chides him as she looks around and they head towards the entrance.

“What? Not seedy enough for you?

Carrie smirks. _Touché_.

The bar is surprisingly empty for 4:00p in the afternoon, except for a small group of businessmen and women gathered around a table. Carrie and Quinn slide onto adjacent bar stools.

“Two tequilas,” Quinn tells the bartender.

Placing two glasses in front them, the bartender pours a shot into each.

“I’ll start a tab?” he asks.

Quinn nods, then reaches for his glass. Seeing his hand is still covered in blood, he quickly throws back the tequila then excuses himself. 

“I’m going to clean up,” he tells Carrie.

Carrie looks up and notices Quinn’s blood stained hand as he turns to walk away. She closes her eyes and swallows hard as the horrific events of the morning come rushing back to her. In all her years with the CIA, she had never seen such raw brutality on US soil as she had today. She had come to expect it in Iraq and Iran, but not in her own backyard, on innocent civilians nonetheless, and it shook her to the core. Even Quinn, who she had thought was as cold as ice at one time, seemed a little shaken. But at least he was still able to function in the moment. _Quinn, indeed he is reliable_ , she thinks.

Quinn returns and slides back into his bar stool next to Carrie.  She pushes another drink in front of him.

“You okay?” she cautiously asks him this time, turning to face him.

“Yeah,” he says coolly, staring straight ahead and throwing back his drink.

Carrie joins him, wincing from the burn of the alcohol sliding down her throat, then orders another round.

“You should slow down,” he tells her.

“Slow down, yourself,” she growls at him.

Quinn raises an eyebrow remembering this is Carrie and she does like to drink. They stay sitting at the bar throwing back tequila for another hour before they’re able to speak to one another. Carrie’s head is light, her neck loose, her eyes and tongue heavy. Quinn is just as comfortably numb, just the way he likes it.

“You hungry?” he finally asks her.

“Yeah,” she replies and grabs a menu.

They order enough appetizers to feed an army. More crap to feed their decaying psyches.

By 8:00p, they’ve loosened up enough to start exchanging words and after another shot or two, Carrie finds herself sharing with Quinn more than she intended.

“It’s bipolar disorder with schizophrenic tendencies. It runs in the family. My sister…she’s a doctor, she diagnosed and now treats me. That how I’ve been able to keep it secret.”

Quinn looks at her and feels some empathy. He knows suffering. He has his own demons he has to manage. He takes another drink of his tequila.

“I have a kid,” he suddenly confesses.

Carrie tries to hide her surprise. _Didn’t see that one coming_. She nods and sips her drink.

“I left him, and his mother.”

“Do you miss him?” Carrie asks.

“I don’t know him. Or her, really. I thought it was best, given my job.”

Quinn finishes off his drink.

“Stupid,” he mutters, shaking his head in disgust and pushing his glass away from him.

Carrie reaches out her hand and lightly touches Quinn’s arm and smiles at him with some sympathy in her eyes. Quinn looks at her, holding her gaze for several moments. Carrie caresses his arm with her thumb. Her touch and the way she looks at him send an ache through Quinn’s chest.  Maybe she was softening. Or maybe she was drunk.

Quinn pulls back his arm and reaches for his wallet.

“Come on, we should get going.”

His sudden change in behavior surprises Carrie and leaves her feeling a little burned, but she doesn’t let the feeling linger long and rises from the bar stool. She wavers on her feet and grabs hold of Quinn’s shoulder.

“Whoa…”

Quinn grabs Carrie’s arm to help steady her.

“You okay?” he asks, though he can clearly see that she is drunk.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Carrie laughs and lets go of Quinn. But she continues to sway a bit. Quinn is not much better but given his size he is not quite as far gone.

“Let’s call a cab,” Quinn suggests. He rises from his bar stool and takes out his cell.

“Nah, not yet,” she argues with a slight whine.

“Well let’s at least get some fresh air.”

Still holding Carrie by the arm, they walk to the outdoor lounge. The night air is cool against their skin and wakes their senses slightly. Carrie takes a few steps away from Quinn and looks up at the starry sky feeling like it could just envelop her and take her away from all this. He stands from a distance and admires her. She looks remarkably peaceful and beautiful, he thinks, although she’s clearly drunk.

“Come on, dreamer, let’s get you home.”

She turns and stares at him a moment.

“I don’t want to go home, Quinn,” she says softly. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He knows this. Night time is when the demons come out, when the terror rises back inside him. Nights like this were sleepless nights, lying awake waiting for the sun to rise again. But he could not, he would not, take advantage of Carrie.

He reaches out his hand to her.

“Come on.”

Quinn gently holds Carrie’s hand and guides her to the hotel lobby. They approach the registration desk.

“Hi there. My partner here and I need two rooms for the night,” he tells the clerk. Carrie turns to look at him, wondering if the two rooms are just a cover or if he intends to sleep in one.

“Of course, sir. Just one night?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“My pleasure. May I please see some ID and method of payment?”

After signing for their rooms, Quinn and Carrie make their way to the elevators, along with a crowd of Japanese businessmen just arriving. They all squeeze in, Carrie now standing directly in front of Quinn, still swaying and bumping against the other riders as they push into the crowded space. Quinn tries to steady her and pulls Carrie back towards him, his hands on her upper arms.

“Easy now,” he whispers.

Carrie feels a sense of comfort with Quinn’s hands holding her tight. She relaxes back against his chest and lets her head rest against his shoulder. _I could fall asleep right here_ , she thinks. Quinn feels her start to go a little limp against him and wraps his arms around her waist to hold her up.

“Come on, Carrie,” he whispers against her ear.

Carrie straightens herself a bit and Quinn starts to relax his hold again, but she grabs his hands to prevent him from letting go.

“Don’t,” she tells him, continuing to look straight ahead.

Quinn sighs, hopeful she is sober enough to know what she is doing. He pulls Carrie closer against him, this time in more of a hug, then rests his lips on the side of her head and breathes her in _. I won’t let you go_ , he thinks.

The elevator makes several stops on its way up to their floor, each time depositing a rider or two, but Carrie continues to lie back against Quinn, her eyes now closed and arms grasping his arms. A smile creeps across her face.  She’s teetering on the edge of passing out, but is fully aware of the sense of comfort and safety she feels wrapped in Quinn’s embrace. Quinn continues to hold her, his cheek now resting against her head and eyes gazing down at their entwined arms.

The elevator finally reaches their floor and Quinn guides Carrie out from behind, then wraps an arm around her shoulder and walks her down the hallway, searching for their rooms. Upon finding them, Quinn opens one door and guides her in. She turns to face him, eyes half open, head flirtatiously tilted to the side, and hopeful he wants to stay.

“I’ll be right next door,” he tells her.

“Quinn…”

“Close enough to hear you snore.”

She looks at him longingly. He knows that look and it takes every ounce of will power not to take advantage of it.

“Good night, Carrie,” and he turns to leave.

Carrie reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Stay,” she whispers. “Just…stay here with me. Please?”

If she only knew how much he wanted to. How much he longed to lie with her, hold her, make love to her.

“Carrie…”

She steps towards him and tries to touch his face but he grabs her hand before she can.

“You’re drunk, Carrie,” he whispers.

She lowers her eyes in embarrassment and shame, stands taller, and starts to pull away, but he doesn't let go of her hand.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it, Carrie. I have. More than you know.”

Carrie stands staring at him, mouth agape, somewhat startled.

“But you’re never drunk in my fantasies.”

They continue to gaze at each other in silence.

“Quinn…I’m not _that_ drunk.”

He smiles, “yeah…you are,” and he turns and walks towards the door. She watches him start to leave.

“Well…I’ve thought about it too,” she confesses.

This stops him in his tracks. He slowly turns to face her, looking for more from her. Carrie pulls at her hair and contorts her face in frustration.

“Do you think my heart’s frozen over from Brody? Or my head is so completely clouded that I don’t feel anything anymore?”

She turns away from Quinn and walks further in the room, then faces him again.

“You know what allows me to sleep at night? You,” she tells him, staring from across the room.

“You, and knowing that when everything else in the world is swirling in chaos around me and in my head, that I can count on you and how I feel when I am with you…which is good, and grounded. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

She steps closer to him but he is speechless.

“So yeah, we’re both a little drunk. But that doesn't invalidate the feelings I have.”

Quinn now takes a step closer to Carrie, and looking into her eyes, takes her cheek in his hand and caresses it with his thumb. He wants to believe her. He wants to lay her on the awful hotel bed and spend the night making love to her until they ache all over. But he knows despite everything she says, Brody and her love for him, still loom large in her. He speaks to her in almost a whisper.

“I can’t, Carrie. Not like this. I’m not going to do that to you, or to me.”

Carrie bows in her head and tears start to fall. _I’m such a fucking mess_ , she cries to herself. Quinn pulls her in against his chest and holds her, his hand softly rubbing her back.

Quinn finally pulls away and taking Carrie by the elbow, he walks her to the bed, pulls back the covers and helps her climb in. He then walks around to the other side and lays down next to her, but on top of covers. They turn on their sides to face each other.

“Go to sleep, Carrie.”

She stares at him until her eyes can no longer stay open. Though she tries to fight it, her lids slowly start to close. Quinn waits until her breathing is heavy and even, then allows his own exhaustion take over and soon sleeps soundly next to her.


	2. Chapter 2

Carrie wakes with a jolt and bolts upright in bed in a panic. She looks around the dark room, slowly remembering where she is and how she got there. Looking to her right, she sees Quinn lying on his back on top of the covers, fully clothed with one hand resting behind his head, the other resting across his chest, his lips parted just slightly. She relaxes, realizing the nightmares were in her head – remnants of the previous day.

She looks again at Quinn and smiles, feeling thankful he’s still here, then slowly lays down again, facing him. She watches his chest rise and fall, his eyes twitch. Carrie reaches her hand out and rests it on his upper arm, feeling the warmth radiating from under his shirt. Quinn immediately senses her touch, but doesn’t stir. Instead, he allows himself the pleasure of knowing she is there, lying next to him, reaching out to him. He focuses his thoughts on the sensation of her fingers wrapped ever so gently around his arm, the sound of her breath, the weight of her body against the mattress next to him.

Carrie eventually closes her eyes again and drifts back to sleep.

Around 4:00a, Quinn flutters his eyes open. The room is still and dark, and Carrie sleeps soundly next to him. He turns his head slowly, trying not to wake her. She is curled up in a fetal position, one hand resting under her chin, the other still draped across his bicep. He closes his eyes again and tries to burn the feeling and the moment into his soul and store it forever. Though he wants to reach out and touch Carrie, he knows the safer thing to do is quietly leave. He takes one final glance at her then slowly crawls off the bed. Finding a pen and pad of paper, Quinn scribbles a note and then pulls the car keys from his pocket, leaving both next to Carrie’s bag, then sneaks from the room and leaves.

About two hours later, Carrie wakes to the sun shining through the curtains into her face. Her heart sinks when she sees that Quinn is no longer there. Though she knows nothing physical happened between them, they had shared a level of intimacy that was new and scary and intense.  _Fuck,_  she thinks as thoughts of Quinn collide with thoughts of Brody in her head.

Rubbing the sleep and hangover from her eyes, Carrie sits up and looks around the room for her belongings. She sees her bag on the dresser and grabs for it, knowing she’s got some aspirin and a toothbrush inside. She pops two pills in her mouth, then rises to find water and sees the keys and note from the corner of her eye. She stops, picks them up, and reads the note.

_‘Morning,_

_Coffee awaits you back at the safe-house. Hope to see you soon._

_Q_

_P.S. You snore like a freight train._

Carrie smiles broadly and stares at the note a little longer, then heads towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time deciding whether or not to keep this story close to Carrie & Quinn's true relationship or go totally off-kilter, and ended up with the former. I just love the slow progress of their relationship and think it's so essential to their long term, healthy relationship, that I couldn't mess with it too much. So if you are disappointed and are looking for more fantastical sex between these two, please see my other stories! :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up after Quinn confesses to the murders of Javadi's daughter-in-law and ex-wife. He exits the house and finds Carrie waiting for him by their parked cars. Quinn has agreed to Carrie's request to find the real Langley bomber.

Quinn closes his car door, puts the keys into the ignition and throws his truck into drive.

 _Just drive,_ he tells himself. _Just go and don’t look back_.

He is dazed and trying to process the anger and disbelief he feels…the audacity of Carrie, plowing right over the epiphany he just shared with her so she could recruit him in exonerating Brody from any involvement in the Langley bombing.

_Fucking Brody. When will she get it in her head that he is toxic._

Quinn drives out of the quaint suburban neighborhood of Javadi’s daughter-in-law toward the highway, his anger quickly turning to disappointment.  In the distance he sees a neon sign flashing “BAR,” and decides there is no time like the present to throw a few down.

Meanwhile…

After Quinn left the suburban neighborhood, Carrie stood outside near her car, replaying the conversation she and Quinn had just had. She knew she was asking a lot of him. She knew Quinn loathed Brody. She might too if things were different. And after the previous night at the hotel with Quinn, she knew that asking him for his help was pushing the limits of their relationship. But she needed him. He was the only person she truly trusted. And a part of her truly believed that if she could prove Brody’s innocence, she could move on with her life, with this baby, maybe even with Quinn. But the pain and disbelief she saw in Quinn’s face tonight, it was worse than she anticipated.

She’d make it up to him, someday, somehow.

Carrie gets into her car and starts to head home when she catches sight of Quinn’s truck as she passes a bar. She screeches to a stop and slowly backs up.

 _Black Durango – it must be him_.

Carrie pulls her car into the parking lot, gets out, and walks inside. Almost everyone in the place turns to see her, after all it’s not often an attractive blond walks through those doors. Everyone, that is, but Quinn, who sits at the bar, eyes staring down at the beer cradled in his hands. She approaches him and lays her hand on his shoulder.

“Now why couldn’t we have come here last night? This is more my kind of place,” she says lightly.

He turns, shocked to see her. A small smiles breaks across Quinn’s face.

“I don’t think you’re allowed in here – your photo’s posted behind the bar.”

They share a little laugh and a smile, before she sits next to him and turns to face him.

“What are you doing here? I thought we drowned all our sorrows last night,” she asks softly.

“Is that what we did?”

Quinn continues to stare straight ahead. Carrie watches him silently. He turns to face her.

“Do you remember last night?” he asks her.

_Ouch._

“Of course I remember last night,” she scoffs at him.

“Do you, Carrie? Do you remember standing in the elevator? Me holding you? You holding me?” He pauses to let his words sink in.

“Do you remember telling me that I was the one person, the ONE PERSON, who brought you comfort? How about waking up in the middle of the night and checking to make sure I was still there? Do you remember that? Or reaching out and holding onto my arm?”

Quinn’s words hit her hard. A lump forms in her throat.

“Because that’s what I remember about last night,” he says coldly.

Carrie sits silently looking at him. Of course she remembers those things. Aside from being a little drunk, those intimate moments with Quinn were perfect. Every second with him just felt right. No doubts, no anxiety. No questions racing through her head. But right now, she needed to put all that behind her and focus on her mission.

“Is that what this is about?” she asks.

“Shit, Carrie. Yes, that is what this is about!” he says angrily. "You act like nothing happened last night. That all I am to you is a soldier, here to do your dirty work, or whatever the fuck it is you need to clear Brody!"

She sighs.

“Quinn you know this is complicated…”

“No shit.” He is exasperated.

They sit in silence. Quinn downs what remains of his beer, pulls out some cash and drops it on the bar then stands to leave.

“Quinn…” she calls after him.

 _Walk away before you say something you regret,_ he thinks. 

Quinn heads to the entrance and leaves. Carrie follows him outside.

“Quinn!”

Half way across the parking lot Quinn stops, his back to her, then turns and looks at her standing there. He walks briskly towards her, and with his hands framing her face, pulls her to him and kisses her hard. She is startled and frozen at first, then can’t help but respond. She had fantasized about him kissing her - _and_ _God it felt so good_.  And so right.

Just as her body starts to overtake her brain, Quinn pulls back. His hands still gently holding her face, his breath rapid, he gazes at her for a moment, looking for some sign from Carrie that she feels what he is feeling, that she wants him as much as he wants her. He thinks he can see it in her eyes, that glimmer, that softness. But it quickly disappears.

He slowly backs away, feeling both regret and truimph.

“Quinn…” she whispers, “please...”

“We’ll get you your bomber, Carrie.”

Quinn climbs into his truck, quickly exits the parking lot and heads towards the highway. He swallows hard, knowing fully that his only mission now is to help Carrie. Whatever it takes.  


End file.
